


Swimming for Dummies

by Tinamour



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Sam can't swim, Translation, from fanfiction.net, mention of drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 16:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinamour/pseuds/Tinamour
Summary: Sam can't swim? No problem, the Fellowship is here to help!





	Swimming for Dummies

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Natation pour les nuls](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/322596) by Tinamour. 



Frodo had harbored doubts ever since they had used the ferry to flee from the Nazguls. During the whole crossing, Sam had looked rather uncertain. At that time, it could have been easily explained by the fact that there were four black-hooded demonic figures riding on horses that were as loud as steam machines on their heels. Even Strider would have had a hard time keeping his calm. Or maybe...Anyway, that was off topic.

Sam had managed to fool them until they arrived in Lorien and rumours about a journey along the Anduin spread out. From that moment, one could often find Sam eyeing the river, sometimes even daring to stick a toe in the water as if to test its temperature, or just glaring at the small boats gently rolling on the waves, safely berthed to the pier.

In fact, it was very simple: Sam didn’t know how to swim.

But that was normal, for a Hobbit, wasn’t it? Ot at least, that’s what Sam had come up with as an excuse. He had always lived in Hobbiton, farming the land with his father, smoking the pipe, gardening for Mister Bilbo and Mister Frodo...The only water he was familiar with was the shallow river near his house and never, never ever, had he once thought he would have to sail on unknown seas.

When he had finally confessed his secret, Merry and Pippin had shared appalled looks before bursting into laughter, Aragorn had sported one of his enigmatic smirks that meant everything and its opposite, Legolas had seemed immensely sad, Gimli had carried on sharpening his axe, Frodo had opened his eyes even wider than usual, and Boromir...Boromir had reacted at the exact opposite of what everyone expected him to: he had established himself as a swimming teacher.

Sam had protested the best he could, but Boromir was more obstinate than a mule. He had thrown the Hobbit across his shoulder and had gone to drow...teach him how to swim properly.

And now, the surviving members of the Fellowship were chilling under the shade of a mallorn, watching Sam’s tribulations with a rather perverse delectation. The torture had started only fifteen minutes ago, but Sam was already as red, if not more, as the tomatoes he grew in his garden, almost out of breath, and closer to drowning than floating.

“Come on!” Boromir cheered in a tremendous voice. “You are only wading! You will never reach Mordor at that pace!”

“One can simply swim into Mordor?”

“I don’t know, Pip. Ask Frodo.”

“Frodo?”

“What?”

“Can one simply swim into Mordor?”

“I don’t know. Ask Merry.”

“I just did!”

“Ask Gandalf, then.”

“Gandalf is dead…”

“How about Strider?”

“Strider, can one…”

“No! I want out! Leave me aloooone!!!!”

“I think Sam is drowning,” Gimli noticed rather casually, as if he was only discussing the weather.

Frodo wouldn’t have bet on it, but he was almost certain Strider had mumbled something along the lines of “About time…”

“Hold on, Sam! I’m coming!”

Despite what everyone thought, that sentence hadn’t been yelled by the devoted swimming teacher, but by the blond archer, who dived into the pool without even stirring it. Boromir was still on the shore, speechless, considering the messy moves of his student as if he had trouble figuring out what was going on.

“How is this possible?” he muttered between his teeth. “I had calculated everything, he should at least be floating…”

“And why is that?” asked Aragorn, who had just materialized by Boromir’s side.

“Well,” the Gondorian explained, “his belly looks like a buoy. And a buoy floats. So, he should be floating too.”

Aragorn shot him a very not convinced look.

By the time Boromir had developed his theory further, Legolas had dragged Sam out of the water, and the soaked-through Hobbit was unable to move, except for his chattering teeth, which made his whole body jiggle along. Moved by a very badly timed feeling of altruism, the three other Hobbits joined him, looking for a way to warm him up. The safest and surest solution proved to be a hug.

“Boromir?” Aragorn asked softly once he was sure the Hobbits were too focused on the hug to hear him.

“Yep?”

“Two things. One, next time, you can keep your shitty syllogisms to yourself. Two, when you plan your next assassination attempt, warn me, so that I can have some fun too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translated from my old fanfiction account, I wanted some light-hearted, funny crack on this account too.  
> Thank you to meridianrose for beta-reading the translation, and big wink at my old LOTR fanfic partner, Magicawn


End file.
